


If Wishes Were Fishes

by twosidedcoin



Category: Aquaman (2018)
Genre: Adorable Orm, Big Brother Arthur, Gen, Like long standing abuse, Mostly just brotherly fluff between the two honestly, Some comfort, Tom is the Best Dad, but its Atlantis so are we even surprised, mentions of child abuse, some hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 13:41:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17468666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twosidedcoin/pseuds/twosidedcoin
Summary: Vulko takes a risk and introduces Arthur and Orm at a much younger age. Everything changes but the events seem to find themselves back in order, playing out.(Really just fluff between brothers because there isn't enough of it out there.)





	If Wishes Were Fishes

Vulko came and brought a child with him.

The kid was thin with pale hair and bright blue eyes and he was young- no older than four. Arthur blinked down at him as he approached, the smell of seafoam and fish blowing in the wind. Arthur squinted down at the kid, untrusting.

“Hello Arthur,” Vulko greeted, tone polite and warm and kind.

The child said nothing as he continued to glare up at him. Vulko’s hand was set on the back of his head, which only seemed to set the child at more unease.

“Where’d you get the brat?” Arthur demanded with all the rude impudence of a ten year old.

Blue eyes narrowed- sharp and hateful- as Vulko gave him a disappointed look. Arthur sank under his gaze even as he matched the child’s glare with one of his own.

“This is Prince Orm Marius. You’re younger half-brother,” Vulko explained, pushing the child slightly forward.

Arthur stared down at him. He was short and bony, sharp angles and harsh edges, and when he looked up at Arthur it was with the bitterness only a child could muster. A child who’s been wronged by Arthur despite the fact Arthur’s never seen him before today.

Not one to shy from a challenge Arthur narrowed his own spiteful look at the youth as he asked crisply, “Why is he here?”

“Mother is dead,” the boy- Orm- said before Vulko could, “Father threw her in the trench because of you.”

“ _Orm_ ,” Vulko snapped, not at all the gentle patient teacher Arthur’s grown up knowing and Arthur knew that Vulko was only trying to protect him.

And he appreciated that but when he blinked back down at the child all he could see was his mother- smiling and beautiful- glaring back. Something tight squeezed inside his chest. The same thing that takes hold of him when he catches his father gazing out in the ocean or whenever Arthur looks at the picture of the three of them together and happy. Better times- before Orm’s father ruined it.

And suddenly Arthur’s found an outlet for his building frustration.

“And you did nothing?” he snapped.

Never mind the fact that Orm was four and looked as if a strong wind could knock him over any moment. Or the fact that it would have been opposing the king and his father and Arthur could never really deny his own dad anything. All he saw was the boy his mother replaced him with and then did nothing when she had been sentenced to die.

Vulko didn’t oppose him, but his lips did flatten. Orm bristled, shoulders tensing and hands balled into tight fists at his sides.

“You don’t think I protested?” Orm demanded, blue eyes flashing almost violet, “You don’t think I begged for father to stop? I tried and he didn’t listen and mother. She- she told me everything would be okay. She _promised_ , and they threw her to those monsters anyways.”

Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes, evidently remembering his mother before she was sent to slaughter and it pained him. And, just as quickly as Arthur’s anger came, it went. Draining from every muscle and leaving him weak and dizzy.

Arthur dropped to his knees, wrapping Orm in his arms. Orm didn’t fight him. Just stood completely rigid in his hold. Unmoving, bones sharp corners under Arthur’s hands.

“It’s okay,” Arthur promised, “I’m sorry. You’re not to blame.”

“No. You are,” Orm growled earning another sharp reprimand from Vulko.

Orm shrank inside Arthur’s arms at the bitter tone; Arthur squeezed him tighter even as he reassured, “No Vulko. It’s okay. No one is at fault except for the person responsible for throwing her in a trench.”

“Not _a_ trench,” Orm corrected but his voice was considerably softer than before, “ _The_ trench. With the savages.”

“Yes. Of course. My mistake,” Arthur agreed quickly, cutting Vulko from saying anything further.

He pulled away, keeping hold of Orm’s arms. Orm still wasn’t smiling, but he was no longer glaring. Blue eyes were staring up at him as if studying him, trying to figure something out. Arthur idly wondered if anybody’s taken his side before.

Probably not.

Arthur wrapped him in another hug, clinging to him desperately. He buried his nose in the floppy blond hair smelling of salt and fish and imagined his mother smelt much the same. Smelled of the ocean. Orm just stood there, limp in his arms. Beside them Vulko cleared his throat.

Arthur was loath to do it, but he pulled away. Orm blinked back up at him before reaching up to smear the wetness leaking from the corners of his eyes all over pale skin.

“I hate this place,” Orm grumbled spitefully.

Arthur chuckled, rubbing blond hair. It was soft under his fingers. Not at all the stringy straw human’s hair becomes after spending too long in the ocean.

“Up here you have to feel your tears,” Arthur told him, echoing something his dad had told his mom years ago.

Orm pouted, looking impossibly adorable. Arthur chuckled again, even as Vulko pulled him away for training. Orm didn’t join in, opting instead at sitting on the beach playing with curious crabs.

“You’ll bring him again?” Arthur asked Vulko towards the end of their lesson, taking his attention away to gaze at the kid glowering down at a particularly prudent crab.

Vulko struck him on the side of his head, sending him spiraling onto the sand. He went down laughing, adrenaline making his heart flutter inside his chest.

“Never take your eyes off your opponent,” Vulko chided him even as Orm’s soft features popped in his vision above him.

“I thought you were supposed to be a skilled fighter,” Orm said.

“ _Orm._ ”

“I got distracted,” Arthur told his brother honestly, ignoring Vulko’s sharp tone in favor of sitting up so he could meet Orm’s sparkling blue.

Orm crossed his arms and said simply, “That’s going to get you killed.”

“Maybe,” Arthur hummed in agreement, “but that’s what this training is for.”

“Father says that it is illegal to teach surface dwellers our ways,” Orm told him, earning another reprimand from Vulko.

“You won’t tell, will you?” Arthur asked, batting his eyelashes and adopting the face he makes whenever he wants something from his father.

Orm made a similar face his dad did, bristling as if in shock and it looked to be almost compulsion when the child reassured, “Of course not.”

Arthur beamed. Orm blinked back.

{…}

“Where’s Orm?”

Vulko frowned down at him. Arthur stared back- the last couple of times Vulko’s visited him he’d been by himself. Whenever he asked Vulko always said the same thing.

“He’s got duties beyond visiting you.”

Arthur missed him, though. Missed him more than he thought he would after their one encounter but he often found himself thinking of how much his brother must have grown these last two years.

“Maybe next time then,” Arthur replied, like he always did.

Vulko blinked down at him before away- his tell whenever he’s hiding something- and lied, “Sure.”

{…}

Orm is seven the next time Arthur sees him, and he’s alone. It’s dark outside, rain beating against the roof and walls. The news said a hurricane, an evacuation already in order. Which was why it came as a surprise when Arthur opened the door to reveal his miserable looking brother.

“Orm?” Arthur asked, herding the kid inside hurriedly.

He was still short and too thin, blond hair growing ever longer. Blue eyes were dull and he didn’t entirely seem present whenever Arthur sat him down on the couch before disappearing to find warm towels to wrap him in. When he returned it was to Orm sitting frozen, Arthur’s dog whining against his leg.

“Orm, buddy?” Arthur asked, voice soft and tentative, “You with me?”

Orm didn’t reply- didn’t even blink. His blue eyes remained blank, void of life, and it was starting to freak Arthur out. To occupy himself Arthur busied himself in drying off his brother all the while babbling, trying to rouse his brother with his voice.

It’s not until he moves to his arm when he finds the cut. It’s shallow but bleeding, skin around it already starting to purple and from Arthur’s spot beside him he could smell the sickly sweetness of rot. He almost gagged even as burning red pulsated behind his eyes.

“Orm?” he repeated, squeezing around the wound with a towel.

Orm blinked, whined, “ _Ouch_.”

Arthur released a soft relieved breath as he burrowed his face into his brother’s damp thigh in relief. Orm still didn’t move, remained tense and proper.

“Whatever is the matter with you?” Orm demanded.

Arthur pulled away, returning to the task of cleaning his brother as he demanded sharply, “What in the world happened to you?”

Orm blinked again before replying, “I was attacked.”

“No kidding,” Arthur agreed, “I thought Atlantis was supposed to be safe.”

It had been a thought, a reassurance that kept Arthur’s mind calm whenever he thought of his little brother. Now he could think of wanting nothing more than tearing the whole place apart for failing Orm so greatly.

“It was human pirates with Atlantis weapons,” Orm explained with a faraway expression, “Vulko thought taking me out would be safe and father agreed. I didn’t know where else to go. I panicked.”

Orm didn’t spit the word ‘ _human_ ’ like it was poison but Arthur felt the animosity all the same. Arthur felt much the same whenever he glanced at the wound stretched down his brother’s pale skin, and he was supposed to be on the side of the humans.

 _Calm yourself Arthur_ , Vulko’s calm voice echoed in his skull, _contain your emotions. Focus._

“Where’s Vulko now?” Arthur pressed, squeezing at the wound and finding that it oozed a thick purple liquid that burnt through his father’s good towels.

Whatever. He’d get him more.

Orm shrugged, “I lost him and father during the attack. I was unsure where to go. I’m sorry.”

“Shh. Don’t apologize. You’re always welcomed here,” Arthur reassured as he rose to find something to wrap Orm’s arm in.

“I could have been followed.”

“Let them come. I’ll kill them myself.”

When he crouched back down beside him Orm’s eyes no longer looked dazed. Instead they focused back on Arthur unsurely.

“They’ve done nothing to wrong you,” Orm pointed out sounding far older than his seven years of age.

Arthur poured some antiseptic on the wound earning a wince and more purple liquid to drip out as he replied like it was obvious, “They hurt you didn’t they?”

Orm blinked again, “You don’t know me.”

“You’re my brother. That’s enough for me.”

Orm’s face grew weepy before the rest of the color drained, blue eyes rolling in the back of his skull as he tipped over limply. Arthur caught him, cradling him in his arms as he patted his face in a desperate attempt to rouse him back to consciousness.

The door flung open, forcing Arthur to his feet as he planted himself between the threat and his unconscious brother. Vulko glowered back.

“Arthur,” he said, voice void of the anger on his face, “I apologize for the intrusion. Orm should have never bothered you.”

Arthur bristled in defensive fury as he growled, “Orm is never a bother.”

“It was dangerous for him to come here,” Vulko continued, brushing past Arthur to kneel down next to Orm.

Orm’s breathing had quickened, and his face was screwed up in pain. His eyelashes fluttered wildly as he seemed to curl in on himself as if that was enough to protect him from the world. His skin was glistening with fevered sweat.

Arthur caught Vulko’s wrist when he reached out to brush blond hair from pale features. Vulko turned to him, unimpressed.

“He needs medical attention only Atlantis can offer,” Vulko explained like he would a small child.

“I want to see him more,” Arthur said coldly, “He’s my brother, and I do everything you tell me to do. If you try keeping him from me anymore then I won’t. Our training will end.”

“Arthur.”

Arthur knelt back down beside Orm, gathering his small frame in his arms and rising to his feet. He could feel the heat radiating from his brother’s flesh, making his stomach knot anxiously.

“Take him. Save him,” Arthur commanded, handing the small form over to Vulko like he was something fragile and impossibly precious, “And don’t you _dare_ try keeping him from me anymore.”

Vulko said nothing as he took Orm and left.

{…}

Vulko must have realized Arthur was being serious because the next time he visited him Orm was with him. A week had passed without a word and Arthur had thought he was going to have to hunt down Atlantis by himself to try and find word on his brother. Then, like the tide, Vulko was there with the small blond figure beside him.

Arthur rushed forward- his worry and anxiety bubbling out at once- as he slid to a stop in front of Orm. He took his arms in his hold, golden eyes roaming over his brother in an attempt to reassure himself that he was truly fine.

“I’m sorry,” Orm mumbled, head bowed, “I hadn’t been thinking clearly. I should have never put you or your father in danger by coming here the other night.”

“Come anytime you want,” Arthur told him as he pressed a kiss amongst the neatly combed blond hair, “You’re looking better.”

“Yeah,” Orm agreed as his skin turned an interesting shade of pink, “Vulko told me you were worried. It was wrong for me to have worried you.”

“You’re my little brother,” Arthur said, “I’ll always worry about you. I’m just grateful you’re okay.”

Orm stared at him. He looked confused, and the thought that Arthur was for the first person to ever care for him made Arthur’s stomach sick. He drew him back to his chest, sharp eyes glaring up at Vulko.

“I was thinking about what you said,” Vulko finally said after walking them both to the door, “Here’s my offer. Orm does not come to your training sessions, but he can come see you in between. When he’s free.”

It was the best Arthur was going to get, he knew.

He nodded, “Deal.”

{…}

Orm didn’t like the land. It was dirty and gross, he would say, and whenever Arthur took him to the beach to socialize, he spent most of the time yelling at people littering. He also drank more water than what was deemed healthy by human standards.

He also didn’t like the heat. His skin never burned, which had come as a surprise to Arthur because Orm’s skin was considerably fairer and Arthur was always dealing with itchy sunburns. With Orm it was just like all water left his body and the first time he’d just suddenly collapse, nearly giving Arthur a heart attack in the process.

Orm wasn’t one to complain about his discomforts, and he’d been itching for a walk since that morning. Arthur hadn’t even thought about the sun or heat or the effects they would have on his Atlantean brother. One moment he was walking beside him, and the next he was just slumping over.

“Orm!” Arthur cried sharply, catching Orm around his waist as they fell the rest of the way.

Orm didn’t reply, face lax and pale. His skin felt dry under Arthur’s hold, and when he lifted him in his arms the thin body just drooped completely limp.

“You’re okay,” Arthur promised as he started in a jog back to his house, “You’re going to be just fine. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

In the end Arthur had to dump Orm in the bathtub before tired blue eyes blinked at back him under heavy eyelids.

“I’ve worried you again,” Orm stated, voice dull.

Arthur collapsed, slumped against porcelain. He was still gripping his brother’s hand in a tight grasp as he allowed the fear that had taken hold of him since Orm’s collapse drain from him. Orm’s head rolled to lean against the wall and stare at him, ankles over the lip of the tub.

“It’s okay,” Arthur reassured when Orm started apologizing, “I’m just relieved you’re okay.”

Orm, as it turned out, didn’t like upsetting Arthur either. He thought that in keeping things from him that he was somehow protecting him. Arthur would have appreciated the sentiment if most of the time the thing Orm keeping from him wasn’t important.

Orm did like to remove his shoes and stand and allow the waves to wash over his ankles. He liked Arthur’s dog and the lighthouse. He liked visiting him, eleven when he was brave enough to tackle Arthur in his own hug.

“I missed you brother,” Orm told his chest after rolling Arthur over in his excitement, “It’s been so long since I’ve last seen you.”

It had been almost two months, and whenever Arthur asked Vulko he would just tell him that Orm’s collection of tutors had all grown impatient at his constant daydreaming. Now Arthur had his brother in his arms, having been taken by surprise at his brother’s sudden enthusiasm upon seeing him.

Orm pouted, hands folded over each other on his chest and his chin propped on top of them. His blue eyes sparkled in a way Arthur’s never seen them do before.

“I missed you too kiddo,” Arthur laughed, moving upright.

Orm beamed, rolling off his chest. He was still impossibly skinny, but Arthur could feel the hint of muscle and he’d grown up quite a bit. He was still young, though but his eyes were older than any person Arthur knows.

 _The burden of being the prince_ , Vulko had told him once.

“I’ll be taking my leave now. Orm, I’ll be back to get you when the sun begins to set,” Vulko announced earning a nod from both brothers.

Orm liked anything sweet or bubbly, and he did this thing where he made fish and dogs and creatures Arthur’s never seen before dance in the air with his drink because it made Arthur laugh.

( _Arthur couldn’t do that trick but, in the end, that didn’t matter to him._ )

“I’m happy Vulko broke the law and let me see you,” Orm announced once, laid out on the couch with his head propped up in Arthur’s lap as they watched some bad movie that was on television.

“Me too,” Arthur agreed, smiling and when Orm smiled back Arthur could see the light of the world inside it.

{…}

“You often speak of your brother nowadays,” Vulko noted once when Arthur was seventeen and gushing at how much Orm was growing.

As if Vulko was the one who only got to see him on occasion. It must have been tiresome- to hear Arthur go on and on- but his dad always grinned at the stories. He wasn’t around much whenever Orm visited, making himself scarce ever since he’d reassured the youth that any child of his beloved was a child to him.

Orm had looked up at him and said, “I don’t _need_ any more fathers,” and though he never said it Arthur knew it had bothered his father.

Arthur shrugged. Vulko didn’t bring it up again.

{…}

Orm never came alone anymore.

Arthur figured it was because Vulko frightened him into placing Arthur in any further precarious situations, and it was clear Orm valued the relationship they shared very much. Arthur did as well, and Orm seemed content in seeing him between his sessions with Vulko so that was enough for Arthur.

And it gave him plenty of time to think about the people who’d injured his brother that night.

He’d asked- off and on- Vulko about what had happened. From what he’s gathered it had been an ambush while the king was alone and they’d wielded Atlantean weaponry and had used that to poison the prince. Under the chaos of the attack the prince had gotten lost and- in his panic- came to Arthur. As far as Arthur can tell, the pirates had survived.

Arthur hated them for that.

He hated the king for not protecting his brother. He hated Vulko for trying to keep it from him. More so he hated himself for not being there. If he had been then nothing bad would have happened to Orm.

Then Orm showed up with half his face covered in bruises and everything changed.

{…}

Tom Curry was a man with very little.

He’d lost his wife too soon, had to watch his son grow too quickly. He didn’t have money to live anywhere nice- not that he’d ever move away from the ocean. If not for himself then for Arthur who’s found a new part of himself in his younger brother.

He hadn’t been given the world at birth but, in a way, he’d adapted and found his own private world. And now part of that world was hurting.

Tom couldn’t be sure but he was certain Arthur hadn’t even been aware that the waves started beating fiercely against the rocks. In rhythm of his yelling and it hadn’t taken long before Tom figured out _why_ either.

Orm- who had begun to grow tall and thinner each time Tom sees him- was standing in front of Arthur, head bowed in his best attempt to conceal his fair features. Even from afar Tom could make out purpling of bruises.

Arthur was on his knees in front of him, arms held tightly in his grasp. If he wasn’t careful then he was going to end up unintentionally bruising his brother further, even as he yelled at a calm looking Vulko for an explanation.

“ _Arthur_ ,” Tom snapped at his son.

Arthur pulled away in surprise, turning towards his father’s voice. Vulko’s sharp gaze snapped up in a glare. Tom ignored him, wondered if he knew that was how Arthur felt every time he’s berated Orm. Orm just shrank further in on himself.

Tom ignored Vulko, set his hand on his son’s shoulder as he knelt down in front of the youth. The bruises were ugly and no doubt painful. His eye was swollen, lip bleeding, but he didn’t look visibly shaken by the thought of it.

This wasn’t the first time he’s been struck. And yet for whatever reason this time was different.

“Are you hungry?” Tom asked- so much of his lost love in those blue eyes.

And, just like Atlanna, the youth’s eyes gave him away even as he quickly shook his head. Quick to assure that he didn’t want to be a bother, a sentiment echoed by Vulko.

“He’s already eaten breakfast,” he told him, cutting eyes still baring into Tom.

“A little snack has never hurt anyone,” Tom reassured, “Come. I’ll make you a peanut butter and jelly- your mom’s favorite.”

Orm’s eyes were sparkling, his mouth already salivating at the thought of food. Tom hoped he wasn’t soon to discover that his love’s son was being starved as well as beaten.

“Dad?” Arthur questioned at his side, head tilted to the side.

The waves continued to beat against the rocks. Constant steady rhythm that was as harsh as it was threatening.

“Perhaps you and Vulko should work on your sparring,” Tom told him, _and I your temper._

First he had to take care of the small boy in front of him because he’s been without a positive adult figure in his life for too long.

“I will work on feeding this young prince here,” Tom continued when no one protested.

Orm looked up at him uncertainly. Vulko still looked like he was going to challenge him, and Arthur was still fuming. Perfect. Atlanna forget to mention how broken Atlantis was, though he’d had his suspicions. Arranged marriages. Blackmail. Murder. And now child abuse.

It was almost enough to get him to hope Vulko was right and Arthur was the fated king because then maybe, just maybe, Arthur could bring a positive change. If Arthur could only learn to keep his temper in check.

“Dad?” Arthur repeated, his temper making his voice brave.

“Go on. I’ll take good care of your brother,” Tom said, hand on Orm’s shoulder as he guided him up into the house, “Join us when you’re feeling better.”

“Is Arthur sick?” Orm asked, eyes wide and voice frightened.

“No. He can just be extremely thick headed from time to time,” Tom explained teasingly, earning a soft chuckle from Orm and embarrassed glower from Arthur.

“ _Dad_ ,” Arthur protested as Vulko straightened his spine and looked very much like he was going to protest.

“Go,” Tom commanded and Arthur obeyed.

Vulko and Orm gave him a look- Arthur not usually obeying when he was in one of his moods. He’ll always listen to his father, however, and that was a power Tom knew no one else would ever be able to possess. He smirked, leading Orm towards the kitchen.

The boy took a spot at the counter, accepting the glass of water Tom offered with a soft ‘ _thank you_.’ In the beginning Tom had been surprised to hear the polite intonation Orm used considering he was a prince and was surely handed everything he wanted at birth.

Now Tom looked upon the ugly bruises on his face, and he thinks he gets it.

Orm was born into royalty but he wasn’t born into luxury. If anything his path was considerably harder: his mother had died when he was only four because she’d loved another man before he had even been born, had been raised to be the next king and has dealt with the physical abuse much longer than today.

“Arthur is a very devoted son,” Orm noted, head buried in the cup.

Tom swallowed thickly even as he nodded, “I’m very lucky to have had someone like him for a son.”

Orm nodded, very much a small child, then he looked up with the tentativeness of a child accustomed to being beaten by the adults in their life.

“He’s lucky to have you too,” Orm said, soft- like a secret.

 _I don’t_ need _any more fathers._

Tom swallowed, suddenly understanding his son’s constant need to coddle his younger brother. He reached out to tap his face, around the same area Orm’s bruise was.

“That happen a lot?”

Orm didn’t even reach up to see what Tom was speaking about. He just shrugged his small shoulders, eyes falling back inside his cup.

“He’s making a point. I disobeyed, and I get punished. It’s not any different than what humans do up here,” Orm said.

Tom felt his stomach roll as he shook his head, “That’s _nothing_ like how we discipline.”

Orm’s head snapped up- blue pining Tom to his spot- and argued, “What’s different between cutting your children down with words to fists? Some just leave scars you can’t see.”

“Orm-”

“We all have responsibilities. We don’t get to sacrifice those in order for our own selfish happiness,” and Orm’s face may physically be young but there- in that moment- it was ancient.

Tom sighed, “Of course. I didn’t mean to try and overstep any boundaries.”

Orm eyed him for a long moment before looking away.

“Its fine,” he lied.

{…}

One day a man showed up asking about Atlantis and boxes, speaking of building a team to honor the dead or something. Arthur tried shutting him down- Googled him later. Bruce Wayne. A very dangerous man to piss off. Then he returned with threats of the end of the world.

Arthur went because his dad and brother were in this world, and he’d do anything to protect them.

He was gone for a little over a weak and when he returned, tired and wanting nothing more than to collapse for the next week, Orm was sitting on his bed.

“Arthur,” he said in greeting, arms crossed and face set in a hard glower.

“Hey buddy,” Arthur yawned, lying down on the side of his brother Orm wasn’t sitting on.

Orm huffed, turning so his legs were crossed and he was glaring down at Arthur’s half-conscious form. He looked annoyed, which made him adorable. Arthur reached out and poked his cheek.

“What’s wrong with you?” Arthur asked.

His father had lectured him about his emotions whenever Orm was hurt or in distress. Still Arthur couldn’t help the homicidal rage from bubbling inside him whenever he thought of Orm in any sort of danger. Now it was only muted from his exhaustion.

He propped himself up on his arm, thinking of all the things he’d like to do to Orm’s father. Orm puffed out his cheeks further.

“You disappeared for a _week_ ,” Orm reminded, “I thought something bad had happened. I’d been so worried.”

Blue eyes turned teary and Arthur grabbed the back of his brother’s neck to pull him into a tight hug. Orm melted into the touch and he’s always expressed displeasure at feeling his tears on land. Now he didn’t comment on them.

Arthur tucked Orm to his chest, protective arms securing themselves around his brother, and that was how he fell asleep.

{…}

He gets a ‘ _you’re welcome_ ’ text from Bruce one day, followed by a set of coordinates somewhere in the ocean. Arthur doesn’t reply but his curiosity drags him to the middle of the ocean where a military submarine was being attacked by pirates.

Arthur subdued them easily, annoyed at people taking advantage of those weaker than them, but he doesn’t quite get why Bruce sent him there until one takes a stab at him. The blade is brighter than normal steel and Arthur breaks his wrist in an attempt to grab it.

Atlantean steel. The kind that had been used in an attempt to kill his brother all those years ago.

Arthur throws the guy across the room, stabs the other in the leg. He curses him, but Arthur doesn’t care. He wants him dead, but Orm’s smiling face pops inside his head and he refrains. Orm was still alive and, he thinks, the pirates have learned their lesson.

Only when he turned to leave the bleeding one curses him, shoots the weapon he’d been holding. Arthur ducks and the blast knocks a hole in the wall, metal contorting around the angry figure. Pining him down. Trapping him.

“You can’t just leave him to die,” the other protests.

Orm’s face- pale and barely conscious- pops inside Arthur’s skull. Weak and dead and if it had not been for Vulko then Arthur would go back to being an only child. So he flips his now wet hair and continues up the ladder.

“Ask the ocean for mercy,” he says, knowing it won’t.

{…}

Soon after a woman, little younger than Arthur’s twenty-two, with fiery red hair and so painfully obvious belonged to the ocean appeared much like Bruce had. Their words were the same, at least. End of the world. Blah. Blah. Blah. Responsibilities. Chatter. Chatter. Chatter.

“Atlantis needs your help,” she said, “I need your help.”

“That’s not my problem,” Arthur shrugged, ducking his father into the cab of his old truck, “Atlantis isn’t my problem. Neither are you.”

“The throne is part of your heritage,” she protested.

“No. It’s Orm’s,” Arthur auto-corrected.

Orm has tried so hard to be good enough- pushed and pushed until he had nothing left and then he pushed some more. No one deserved the throne more than Arthur’s younger brother did.

“He’s going to kill him,” she said, “He’s placing war on your home and he’s going to kill your brother.”

Arthur’s skin crawled as he turned back to her. She was staring back, almost angry.

“Sure. Alright. You’ve convinced me,” Arthur said, “Come on. Climb in. You can explain what you mean by your king wanting to kill my brother on the way.

She smirked.

**Author's Note:**

> I may make this into a series that involves more characters (Meeerrrra) if y'all seem to like it.


End file.
